Varia Quality?
by BlackSnow999
Summary: After a slightly suspicious ( not really ) transfer to the quaint town of Namimori, Dorin, on the first day of middle school, finds herself abducted by a group of ninja-wannabes.What happens next might probably give her an aneurysm. (Slight crack on some chapters).
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, bs9 here! As you can see, I'm currently in the process of creating my very first fic here on *munches on victory pocky*, and I'm thinking of making it half-crack,half-serious-ish. I don't really know how much I'll be able to update, but I'll do my best! :))))))**

**Disclaimer:I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! or anything officially related. I only own my badass German Shepherd lookalike, Twiggy**

Chapter 1: Adjusting Via Cake

As far as anyone's (i.e. teachers, supervisors, guidance counselors, and most especially my step parents)concerned, the last thirteen years I've spent on this Earth was the cause of many broken objects(be it in our house or someone else's), timeouts, counseling sessions, adult hair los-  
s, and of course the infamous, "You're grounded for a whole month young lady, until you pay for that vase you broke and/or you say sorry to that poor boy you pushed down the creek and/or you finish your psycho-therapy procedures after school." And so, after my thirteenth birthday, or _Black Saturday_, as my step-brother Dante likes calling it, dear old S. Dad and S. Mom decided to be helpful to me for once and decided that it was _(finally!_) time for me to change schools. For a girl who looked more like a yankee in a place that was practically overflo-  
wing with girls resembling plastic in terms of beauty, you couldn't have asked for a better reaction.  
Well, you could, but that would be asking too much. From me.

"Wait, _Midori_ Middle School?" I thought, dumbfounded. Knowing my parents, they would have followed me right to the classroom if it was legal. Which was the exact reason I politely, albeit girlishly, asked them to drop me off two hundred feet away from the main gate of my new school. Or so I thought.  
Walking up to the entrance gate, I noticed the big, shiny crest in the middle, which said _Midori _Middle School. Not Namimori Middle.

I immediately brain-panicked, thinking, "Oh great, my parents just dropped me off at the wrong school, and the right one takes at least twenty minutes to walk to," and then realized the matching crest patch on my blazer said the exact thing. I mentally facewalled at the conclusion. "Oh well," I told myself, "this can't be worse than the last  
one." No social isolation and/or hushed whispers were thrown in my direction for the past five minutes I've been here, which, I told myself, was a good sign. (I am such an optimist for good signs, I could die.)

Five hours and fifty-five minutes after my first impression of this elite academy of a school, I found myself walking home, thinking about the events of the day. A cheerful-looking, airheaded girl named Haru Miura approached me at lunch, asking (rather annoyingly high-pitched, mind you) if I wanted some of her cake. Of course I said yes. One of the earliest lessons I learned in life was that, when someone _not_ suspicious-  
looking gives you food, especially cake and sweets, you accept gladly. Anyway, I guess me accepting a slice of her rather delicious cake meant  
I was already her friend, because afterwards she dragged me to Namimori to _meet her friends, especially Kyoko_. So being the grateful newcomer I was, I said yes. Twenty minutes later, I found myself telling Kyoko Hasegawa who I was and where I was from. Not just Kyoko, by the way, but also Tsuna Sawada (who, in my opinion, was shy but looked like a nervous tick), Yamamoto Takeshi (a typical jock) and to Gokudera Hayato, a typical yankee who had hoards of fan girls and looked serious (but  
I soon discovered probably had some sort of brain bug that forced him  
to compulsively flip to his good side whenever Tsuna, or Tenth, as he called him, said something, on impulse.) All in all, it was a good day.

That is, until the wannabe-ninja group attacked out of nowhere.

**So, that's it for the first chapter. Read and Review, loverlies~**


	2. Chapter 2-3

**Hey guys! First of all, I'd like to thank my fellow ff-ers who took the time to read and review my story, and even follow it! *cries tears of joy* As a writer here on , I'm REALLY grateful for those who chose to do so, even if they're isn't many. But still, we all know how hard it is to make a fanfic, let alone garner some attention due to it, so, just like I said before, I LUV YA GUYS~ Also, I decided to try something a bit unorthodox for my second update, since I feel like I didn't do much justice to the first one, based on a review I received. I hope you like it :))) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! or anything rightfully belonging to Akira Amano. I only own my Varia-related fantasies~ **

Chapter 2: I Get Nabbed By The Hentai Ninja

Lesson learned: never insult the head ninja, no matter how ridiculous he looks. Unless you want to get fried by his parasols of death/voltage.

Yeah, turns out _that_ piece of advice was as useful to me as a slab of spoiled bacon would be in a post-apocalyptic world (read: humorous, but entirely useless.)But I guess I just like making things difficult for me.

Probably.

As I was saying, a few eerily quiet seconds passed by before the group of ninja-wannabes attacked me out of nowhere. Of course I ran for my life, just like any other sane person would. "Just my luck," I thought, "First day of school, and I'm already getting chased by mugs straight out of the Sengoku period! Fuck my life." However, before I could proceed to curse at my damned fate, I noticed they were using a type of…parasol as a weapon. "Since when did ninjas carry umbrellas for homicidal tendencies? That's just girly, you know," I found myself saying out loud(and stopping.) One of the masked shinobi abruptly let out a string of colorful vocabulary, apparently pissed at my opinion on their choice of weaponry. Noticing I was losing their attention, I took the chance to escape this potential kidnap. Keyphrase: took the _chance_.

As I was about to make my great escape, I felt someone grab the back of my collar, effectively lifting me up about a foot off the ground. Turning around to face him, I instantly recoiled, not because he was a good-looking male, or because he had no trace of facial hair, or not even because he looked, sounded, and acted nice to schoolgirls walking home. Quite the opposite, in all reasonable sanity.  
The guy looked, in my opinion, like a total mugger who was just waiting for the right chance to knock someone unconscious and take all their dough for a hefty amount of crack cocaine. Either that, or he was just a guy with a rather unfortunately unpleasant personality and bad taste in, um, I dunno, his goddamn _piercings_. "You!" he barked in my face, "How dare you insult the symbol of the Levi Lightning Squad! And to think you will actually have the honor of joining the most elite assassins in the world, courtesy of us! I guess you just can't help being an idiot, can't you?" he snapped, brandishing one of his parabolas, which was starting to sizzle with what appeared to be….electricity. However, before he could, I assume, roast or barbecue me into non-existence, a dart suddenly made its home on my nape, effectively shutting me up for the ninety-minute ride in a box I didn't know I was going to get into.

**Ninety minutes later**

"Ugh, my head…Shit!" I muttered, rubbing the spot on my head where I banged it on the low ceiling of the box I was in. "Agh, fuck you, hentai-ninja," I added for good measure, unable to stretch out my legs in the cramped space of my carrier. After being pricked by a dart on the back of my neck, I found myself trapped in this hard, steel box container, with only the tab at the side providing me with oxygen and the ability to notice a fast moving presentation of trees, buildings, and the occasional blue of the sky, whilst seeing the members of the so called Levi Lightning Squad struggle to carry the contraption holding me captive. I didn't need the slit to know that they were having a hard time carrying me _and_ the box, though. Being the brat everyone knows I am.

Chapter 3: Karma's A Box

So, yeah. To recap, I just got kidnapped by a group of ninjas with an odd taste in Mary Poppins paraphernalia, got stuffed into a metal cube without my consent, and was possibly shipped to a Pakistani brick factory, or, at the very least, a child labor camp located in Antarctica or any other hospitable continent with a nasty case of freezing your asses.

I didn't expect a third option to pop out of nowhere, just so you know.

But here I was, on my way to meet the scariest-get this-_mafia boss _to ever have the pleasure of walking the planet. I know you're thinking, "_Hey, how the hell did a thirteen-year-old bystander suddenly manage to find herself the chance to join the most notorious mafia group ever?"_

The answer is: I. Don't. Know.

What I do know is that he, whoever this leader of theirs is, was notoriously inept at mercy (killing), if the countless men (trainees or low-classes, I suppose) falling at random places on the training grounds had anything to prove. Some of them, I noticed, had burns on their person. Quickly sidestepping one or two every fifteen minutes, I proceeded to enter the sinister-looking mansion at the center of it all.

**Forty-five minutes, sixty seconds, and a hell lot of shouting later  
**  
"Ugh…"I muttered at the audience of the spacious kitchen, suddenly unsure of what I was supposed to say to such…eccentric people. After a rather scary situation involving a window, a stray cat, and a battle-axe, I decided to let go of my pride (at least for a while), and decided to ask the first person I would see for directions to the Boss's office, which was the place I was supposed to go to, according to hentai-ninja (also aptly named Leviathan-sama). Spotting someone with long, silver hair with a sword strapped to her left hand, I decided to make it quick and politely ask her where to. Or at least that's how I imagined it went. "Uh, miss?" I asked, mustering as much niceness as I could, "Do you know-"  
"VOIIII! Who the hell are you calling "miss"?!" an obnoxiously loud _man_ cut me off, brandishing his sword rather closely to my face, chopping a good four inches off of the tips of my hair while doing so. "Sorry about that!" I quickly apologized, not wanting my eardrums to burst, lest rendering me deaf before I turn ninety. Deeming me scarred for life, he decided to interrogate me, megaphone-style. "Voi! Who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you doing here? This ain't no boarding school, punk!" Gathering my hearing back together, I chose to tell the truth, if not for the sake of keeping all of my five senses. "Er, I need to talk to your boss. Know where to find him?" Expecting another ear-shattering response, I quickly covered my ears. Instead, he decided to drag me on my ass through two hallways, before finally dumping me on my current situation, but not before telling someone in the kitchen to "shut up about your damn faggotry, damn fag" and leaving.

"Ugh…hi?" I added awkwardly, pinning my gaze on the marble surface of the island, which was located to my mid-right. Silence…  
"OMG~! What a cutie~!" a homosexual-looking man donning a green Mohawk then screamed, effectively stunning his comrades. "What's your name, honey?" he inquired, walking towards me. Not knowing what else to do but, I answered, "Dorin…?"  
"Well, Dorin-chan, you look so cute~! I absolutely MUST take you shopping sometime!" he answered cheerfully, apparently ignoring the fact that I was more on the tomboy/yankee side of appearance. "Whaddya think, hon~?" he asked me, or, more specifically, the cloud of dust I left in my wake, running for my life from the crazy tiara boy who suddenly started to include me in a game of cat and mouse, all the while trying to skewer me with his knives.

I had the sudden urging to go back to my box.

**As always, Reviews are love! (Btw, do you think I should establish a relationship with one of the Varia members? I'm not just talking about the romantic relationship,though!) Once again, R&R, lovelings!**


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